


Perfectly Still

by Stasia



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, snupin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-20
Updated: 2011-05-20
Packaged: 2017-10-19 15:01:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/202134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stasia/pseuds/Stasia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Biggest disappointment? James, Sirius, and Peter all forgot it was Remus' birthday.<br/>Biggest surprise? Severus remembered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perfectly Still

Remus tucked his hands under his arms and shivered. This March was colder than usual, and he’d already stripped for the Change. He couldn’t have a fire in the Shack – the smoke would give away the fact that it wasn’t ghosts and ghouls making all that noise. Plus, he didn’t think he could trust Moony not to set fire to the whole village accidentally.

He could hear the others downstairs, horsing around. There was a thump and a grunt and he shook his head. Sirius always forgot that Peter was smaller than he. With one wistful thought for the evening he’d like to have, one which was filled with warmth and laughter with his friends, he sucked in a deep breath and threw the ragged curtains wide. In the last moment before he felt the moon’s light touch him, the one dark person he couldn’t think of any more filled the shadows in his mind.

He never remembered anything past the first flare of pain shrieking along his limbs.

***

 

The next day, when Sirius was in Arithmancy and Peter and James had Muggle Studies, Remus found himself dreaming in the infirmary. He’d been lying on his back, staring at the golden flecks dancing in the heavy beams of sunlight, when there was a noise at the door. He rolled his head and saw, through the small crack in the curtains Madam Pomfrey always left him, the skinny figure of the boy he most wished to see and most dreaded being seen by.

Severus moved smoothly. Remus remembered when Severus hadn’t had the physical assurance he held himself with now. Sometimes, Remus wished for that other boy back, the one who was less confident and more open. He seemed to have traded something, some essential part of himself, for this new cold and calculated manner.

As Remus watched, Severus strode past his curtained bed without looking in at him. Remus turned his head away and closed his eyes, letting the hot sun burn his vision through his eyelids. He thought he heard some noise, like the sound of Madam Pomfrey’s voice, but when he looked again, he saw Severus at his bedside, staring down at him.

Remus held perfectly still, sure that he must not move or he’d scare the other boy off. He couldn’t believe that Severus had come this close to him again. Unsure, he wet his lips and tried to whisper. “Severus?”

Severus’ face was impenetrable; his eyes seemed darker, as if there were a film covering them, some type of black curtain that he couldn’t see through. He reached his left hand out slowly and touched the tips of his fingers to Remus’ lips, stilling the words Remus could feel trying to get out.

The fingers resting on his lips were warm, almost hot. Remus worried that there was something wrong, that Severus was sick. He’d always had cold hands before; what could make his fingers so warm now? He opened his mouth, not knowing what he was going to say, when the sound of voices came from the door. Recognising Sirius’ voice, Remus shook his head slightly, his eyes wide. Above him, Severus’ face changed, showing not the strange tense impenetrability Remus had seen, but desperate fury.

Remus closed his eyes against the look on Severus’ face, and the next thing he heard was Sirius’ cheerful voice calling, “Remus, you’re not still sleeping, are you? It’s nearly gone four!” Remus’ eyes snapped open, searching for Severus, sure that as soon as Sirius saw him, there’d be an awful fight, but he saw no one but Sirius nearby.

“Was there—“ he started, before pulling himself short. “Did I miss anything in class?”

Sirius threw himself into the chair beside the bed. “All you ever think about is schoolwork.” He rummaged in his pack, and pulled out a bull’s-eye. “Here,” he said, thrusting the candy at Remus, “violet. But how you eat that awful floral stuff I’ll never know.”

Remus decided that he must have dreamed that Severus visited him; the other boy had barely been able to be in the same room as him ever since … his brain skittered away from thinking of that awful night … and surely Sirius would say something if he’d seen Severus around. Sirius was often Remus’ best early warning system for when Severus was about; he seemed to be able to see Severus around corners and down halls.

***

It wasn’t until Wednesday that he realised that his mum hadn’t sent a birthday greeting. She often moved house to try to find a situation where her limited ability to earn money would allow her to have something like a decent life, but she’d always managed to send him at least a card no matter how tight funds were. He knew it was sentimenal, but he still had the card she’d sent him, one year on her birthday, saying that he was her gift and that she couldn’t ask for a better one.

As the owls flew off, he thought to himself that maybe her card would come at breakfast the next morning. After all, his birthday was the next day; it was unreasonable to expect something early.

Later that day, he saw Peter and Sirius talking and waiting for him between classes. He shouldered through the crowd to them, surprised when they broke off their conversation abruptly. Peter flushed, suddenly and looked away, and Remus remembered how badly they’d hidden the plans from him last year when they’d had a party in the dorm room and covered his bed with sweets. He smiled, then asked them what they thought of the small acromantulae Grubbly-Plank had shown them just after breakfast.

He didn’t think of it again until that night, when his friends dispersed instead of huddling together the way they usually did when they were planning something James sat at Lily’s feet and worked on his Muggle Studies class work, Sirius flirted with a sixth-year over in the corner and Peter disappeard up to bed, tired after a session in Greenhouse 4.

***

Thursday morning, he woke up to see that he was nearly the last one left in the room. Peter was at his own bed, tugging on his shoes, and Remus could hear footsteps pounding down the staircase outside. Rubbing his eyes and wishing he weren’t so groggy, he dressed as quickly as he could and followed everyone downstairs.

He’d missed the owls, he saw, as he trotted into the Great Hall. When he dropped into a place next to James, he glanced around the table. No cards sat at his place. No small packages were tucked near his plate. Trying to stifle his disappointment, he dished some porridge onto his plate and reached for the sugar bowl.

He froze after taking a bite of his breakfast. It tasted of chocolate – rich dark chocolate. Curious, he tipped the sugar bowl towards himself. It was white, as usual. No one around him was watching him, so he picked up Sirius’ spoon and took a small mouthful of the sugar. It tasted sweet, but nothing like chocolate; it was just sugar. He went back to his porridge and tried again; still chocolate. With a smile, he tucked in. Chocolate for breakfast, what a treat.

“Hey, Remus,” called Sirius from down the table, “want to work on the Arithmancy thing today, after lunch?” Remus nodded, distracted by a feeling of being watched. He licked the back of his spoon, and looked out over the crowded room. Beside him, James laughed.

“You’re not usually that interested in your breakfast.” He had taken a plateful of sausages, as usual, and some toast.

“It’s chocolate today,” Remus said.

“Chocolate? Hey, Peter – you didn’t tell me there was chocolate porridge today.” Sirius sounded aggrieved.

Peter, who was working his way through a second bowl of it, shook his head and swallowed. “It’s not. It’s the regular kind.” He tipped his bowl forward so Sirius could look in. He did, then he craned his neck to see into Remus’ bowl.

“You’re sure?” he asked.

Remus, confused now, said, “I know the taste of chocolate.” Sirius reached over, scooped up a spoonful, and Remus shouted, “Hey. That’s mine.” Sirius just chewed meditatively, then shook his head.

“Nope. You’re confused, mate. That’s not chocolate at all.” He shrugged at Remus’ bafflement. “Dunno, Remus, maybe your chocolate obsession’s getting to be too much.”

Remus stared down into his bowl, then carefully took a small bite. It was definitely chocolate, dark chocolate. “You didn’t charm it this way?”

Sirius shook his head, swallowed a bite of his own breakfast and said, “Why would I do that? If I was going to change the taste of something, I’d change the ruddy pumpkin juice. I’d like butterbeer for breakfast, wouldn’t you, Peter?”

Remus blinked down at his plate. “Maybe the house elves changed mine, you know, like the time they did that cake for James—“

“Hi, James.” Lily leaned over James’ shoulder and smiled. “Remus, Sirius, Peter.” She tugged on James’ arm. “You were going to show me that new charm you learned,” she said, pulling him away from the table.

“Yeah,” muttered Peter, “because your old charm wasn’t working at all.”

Sirius and Remus burst out laughing.

***

Remus spent the rest of the day waiting for his friends to spring the surprise party on him that he was sure they’d planned, and feeling like he was being watched. It wasn’t until they were all sitting in the common room after dinner that he realised they’d forgot.

Lily came trotting downstairs with a small, brightly wrapped box in her hands. She sat down on the arm of the chair Remus was in and held it out.

“I know it’s small, but I wasn’t sure what you’d like,” she said, smiling. He smiled back up at her, surprised. She hadn’t got him anything for his birthday before, but maybe James had told her when it was. Just as he was beginning to pull the ribbon off, Sirius and Peter barrelled down the stairs from the boys' dormitory and up to his chair.

“We just realised—you never reminded us…” Sirius trailed off, staring at the box in Remus’ hand, then looking over at Lily. “Why didn’t you remind us?”

She crossed her arms, her expression frosty. “I wouldn’t think you’d need a reminder, actually.”

Remus hastily pulled the paper off the box to reveal a jar of self-correcting ink. The jar was very decorative, and he was pleased that she’d thought of him, but he felt his heart sink slightly; did everyone think he cared about nothing but school? He smiled up at her. “Thank you. This will be very … useful.”

Sirius glanced down at it and nodded. “Yeah, that’s just the ticket for you, Moony. You’ll quit worrying about using so much parchment now,” he said. Remus looked away to hide the disappointment on his face. Is that really what his friends thought about him?

Just then James climbed in through the portrait hole and called out, “I just remembered something!”

Sirius nodded. “Yeah, we forgot, too, but at least Lily remembered.”

“Lily? You remembered my mum saying she’d send me some cake and biscuits?”

Remus’ fingers clenched around the jar of ink. Without waiting for Sirius to move, he shoved his books into his bag, dropped the ink on top and stood up. “Thanks for the ink, Lily. I’ve got to go and—“ he’d started to say, “and study”, but gave up. After a moment’s silence, he shoved past Peter and James and made for the portrait hole. Behind him he could clearly hear Lily’s sharp “Honestly, James, he’s been your friend—“ before her voice was cut off by the Fat Lady closing behind him.

Not knowing or caring where he was going, he walked down the halls, turning randomly at corners and riding on moving staircases until he found himself on the third floor, near the Charms classroom. With a deep sigh, he found the nearest empty classroom and shut the door behind him.

He sank down into the one dusty chair left in the room and put his head on the desk. He knew he cared more about classes than his friends did, but did they really think that he wasn’t interested in anything else? He thought, briefly, of someone who’d known what he was interested in, someone who’d shared many of the same interests, but shoved those thoughts away. He’d never be friends with that person again, so why should he torture himself with memories?

The soft knock of an owl on the window made him jump. He let it in and it flew a few circuits around the room hooting before he could coax it into his hand. Strangely enough, it didn’t seem to be carrying anything; there was no note or letter attached to either of its legs. He shrugged and petted its chest feathers anyway.

“Hey, there. Are you lost?” The owl fluttered backwards, tipping its head from side to side. With one last cry, it launched itself out the window again. With a shrug for its strange behaviour, he turned to pick his things back up. He’d have to go back to the common room sometime and deal with his friends; he might as well not put it off any longer.

There was a large, tube leaning up against the chair and on top of the desk sat a tall stack of books, unwrapped, but bound together with a black satin ribbon tied neatly around a long black quill.

“What?” He ran his fingers up the length of the quill, amazed at how soft it felt. “I wonder who…” Curious now, he pulled the bow apart and glanced at the stack of books. There were two about the Dark Arts in other countries, one claiming to be a _Complet and Totall Collexion of Storeys about The Loup Garou_ and one about dragons in the Far East. The book on top of the stack was blank, except for a short inscription in achingly familiar script.

 _This book will expand to keep your notes; say ‘largo’ and there will be a new signature at the back._

Remus found his teeth clenched together so tightly his jaw ached. “Oh Severus,” he whispered, covering his eyes with one hand.

Dashing at the corners of his eyes, he turned to the cylinder. He pulled away the top and tipped it out to reveal a strange tangle of fabric, in many brilliant colours. Completely baffled, he spread it all out. It was a kite in the shape of a giant man-o-war sailing ship, dressed out in full celebratory regalia. Shaking his head, he shook the tube the kite had been in, and a small piece of parchment fluttered out.

 _‘Raptor’ makes its true colours show._

Remus whispered “ _Raptor_ ” and the ship shuddered. The bright draperies withdrew, to the faintest sound of chanting voices, and then with one last violent shake, the Jolly Roger burst from the mainmast.

Remus burst out laughing, but he found himself choking after a minute. “Oh Severus,” he repeated. “I wish…”

***

Outside the room, draped in shadow, a young man wrapped his left arm around his belly and stared into the room. “Happy birthday,” he whispered.

 _fin_


End file.
